


Care

by ForensicSpider98



Series: Love After the Fact [74]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Cultural Differences, All this stress is bad for the baby, Altean Adam (Voltron), Altean Prince Lance (Voltron), Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Aromantic Asexual Pidge | Katie Holt, Balmeran Hunk (Voltron), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Galra Shiro (Voltron), Galran Prince Keith (Voltron), Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, M/M, Moral Ambiguity, Moral Dilemmas, Multi, Nonbinary Pidge | Katie Holt, Olkari Pidge | Katie Holt, Post-War, it's keith. keith is the baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:26:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28146075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForensicSpider98/pseuds/ForensicSpider98
Summary: As it turns out, week-long sex marathons dictated by one's biology rather than their desires are not as fun as might be assumed.HOWEVERCuddles fucking rule. So there's that :DAlternative summary:Watch an asexual skirt around smut the same way she would skirt around a puddle of vomit XD
Relationships: Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Alfor/Coran (Voltron), Allura/Lotor/Romelle (Voltron), Haggar/Zarkon (Voltron), Hunk & Pidge | Katie Holt, Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Series: Love After the Fact [74]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1635043
Comments: 19
Kudos: 94





	Care

“How’s your ass?” Keith asks, after some vargas of droning silence. The only things to do for entertainment right now are to admire the landscape and badger his mate.

“My ass is perfectly fine, thank you.” A moment’s silence. “So’s your dick-”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Keith snaps his head around to glare at his incredibly smug mate. Scowling, knowing he’s already lost before he’s even begun, he mutters, “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“And I’m glad  _ you _ enjoyed it.”

“I only agreed because Thace told me to.”

“The first time. What about the second time? Or the third-”

“You’ve made your point!” Keith slows his elk down, next to his mate, glaring at him. 

The Altean frowns, surprised at how quickly the teasing soured into irritation. “Are you alright, beloved?”

They’d left early that morning, even earlier than they’d planned. It had always been their intention to leave this quintant, but now Keith’s feeling restless. He has a sense of urgency, but he’s not sure what about. He suspects it’s his season.

Scratch that. He  _ knows _ it’s his season.

“Fine. Just- Stressed. I feel  _ weird _ , but I don’t know how! It’s so  _ irritating _ !”

Keith’s as much scared as he is uncomfortable. He’s well aware of what’s about to happen to him, that loss of control a terrifying prospect. That and...

“Hey, can we stop for a bit?” It’s out of his mouth before he even realizes it. “I- I know we’re almost there, but… Please?”

“Yes, of course.” Lance stops his elk, dismounts, helps Keith down from his.

Keith immediately embraces him, settling against the smaller man’s gentle warmth. He sighs, Lance’s particular scent invading his nose, his familiar presence a balm on his nerves.

“You okay, beloved?”

“I think so? I just really missed you all of a sudden.”

“Okay.” Lance shapeshifts, a little taller, a little broader, a more reassuring frame for Keith to lean against. “The first thing I want to do when we get you back to the village is get you something to eat. Then I'll braid your hair so it doesn’t get all tangled. I asked for extra blankets for you too, to help your fever. I thought it might save your body some effort.”

Keith sighs, settling further. “My good man, thank you.”

“I know this is going to be hard, but I won’t make it any harder than necessary. I can- I  _ will- _ learn how to be a good mate for you. I just need a little guidance sometimes, that’s all.”

“Thace says that- He says the more satisfied I am, the more lucid I’ll be. I think I can trust you with that much.” Keith smiles, the physical contact grounding him, some of the irritation and discomfort. “Just… Make sure I drink. Eat. And please don’t leave... I'm always needing you. It's so frustrating sometimes. I want to be able to stand up on my own, but there's always something in my way.”

“Not for an instant. I promise.” Lance rubs his back, quintessence sinking beneath his skin like a gentle balm. "And you've got plenty of time for that. You're only just now grown up, and we've always known you'd need me for this, right? Whether that means sex or just someone to make sure you're okay."

"Yeah..." Keith hums, feeling his body loosen, some of the irritability ebbing away. “And maybe do that. It feels nice. ‘M so loved…”

“Aw… Beloved. You absolutely are.  _ So  _ loved.” Lance presses a kiss to the base of one of his ears, more than happy to let Keith have his moment. “I’m happy to hold you as long as you like, but sooner or later, we do need to get you home.”

“I know. And sooner, not later.” Keith pushing his head up under Lance’s chin. “I think I’ll be okay.”

“You can ride behind me if you want, and I can lead Calik while we walk.”

“On one condition.”

“Hm?”

“Stop. Naming. Animals. We can’t keep them all.”

“Shhhhhh. We’ll talk about it. Come on.” Lance takes Calik’s reins, unlatching one end from his bridle on the far side of his mouth to give him a bit more room to walk. He figures the bull will follow them whether Lance leads him or not, but he’ll go ahead just in case. BleepBloop climbs out of Keith's saddlebag, fingers in Calik's fur as he finds a new perch atop the bull's head.

Lance vaults back onto Bruna's back, taking Keith’s hand to help him up behind. The Galra wraps his arms around his waist, pressing up close to him. “This is better. I think I’ve been missing you.”

“We’ll be back at the village soon enough,” Lance promises, squeezing Bruna’s sides with his legs. The doe starts forward again, large antlers like coral fans on either side of her head, red hue blending in with the rocky terrain.

They’re back a couple vargas later, sun already hanging low in the sky, chill starting to creep in. Lance feels Keith start to shiver against him. “Go take a bath. I’ll find you something to eat.”

He can feel the eyes of their neighbors upon them. They know exactly what’s happening. He can also sense their displeasure when Keith goes inside alone, and Lance continues on through the village. There’s some strange unease rippling through them...

The scales on his cheekbones start glittering red at the edge of his vision, instincts on high alert. It’s probably making the locals nervous. They can probably sense how on edge he is, and remember the unpredictability red-based Alteans are known for. Fear runs deep, Lance realizes.  He can't blame them. There are far fewer Alteans than there are Galra; this is nothing new. And yet, it took an alliance to end what should have been an easy fight. If he were an outsider, he'd be afraid too.

Pulling to a stop outside Krolia’s den, he drops the reins, stroking Bruna’s neck for a moment, a gentle thanks for her work in getting them here.

Krolia’s inside, kneading some bread. 

“Chills set in?” she asks, pointedly not looking at him.

“Yes. Just as we were coming in, actually.”

“It’ll probably be a while before his temperature rises enough.”

“Why does he need a fever anyway?” Lance asks, helping the woman wrap food in leaves. “It seems like it would be detrimental, since it’s so taxing.”

“Put these in the cellar so they won’t spoil. They’re mostly shelf-stable, but still, it’ll keep them fresher.” Krolia accepts a cloth bag from Lance, filling it with food. “Fever kills sperm, and the resulting skew in his fertility encourages his body to become receptive.”

“Makes sense?” It doesn’t really, but what does he know? Krolia hums, hands him the heavy bag. “Thank you. I’ll take good care of him, I promise.”

“It doesn’t really matter, does it? Either way, he’s already yours.” 

“Isn’t that  _ why _ it matters?” Lance shakes his head. “I don’t have time to argue this right now. Thank you for the food. We appreciate it.”

He pauses in the entryway. “You should come visit once his season’s over. He’d be happy to have you. We can’t stay past the end of the phoeb, so if you want to see him, you’d best do it soon.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” the Galra woman murmurs, staring at him. “Leave your elk here. I’ll take care of them. And BleepBloop.”

“Thank you.”

Back outside, under watch of the villagers, Lance pulls what he needs from the elks’ saddlebags, leaves the rest on the ground before tying them to a post by a water trough. He pets BleepBloop's head, amused he the little primate removes his hand so he can pet him back. “See you soon, guys. Be good for us.”

Wolfing down some food, Lance hurries back to the den, finding a wet-furred Keith sitting on the bed, chirping softly. “Hey, beloved. You okay?”

The Galra nods, having perked up the moment he arrived. Lance hands him some food, stores the rest away. Then he takes up the towel, ruffling Keith’s fur as he dries him off, finishing by squeezing a fresh one through his long hair.

“I feel cold.”

“I promise you’re not.” The air around Keith feels warmer than usual, the trembling of his body making Lance’s work a little more difficult as he parts Keith’s hair. “I’m going to make three braids, and then braid those together. It should keep your hair from falling out and getting tangled.”

Dropping a kiss to Keith’s shoulder, Lance waits for his husband’s nod before he continues. “Everything’s gonna be okay, beloved. I’m right here. Everything will be fine.”

“I- I know. I just-” He shivers again, teeth chattering.

“Shhh… Just eat. Drink some water. I’ll take care of the rest.” Lance finishes braiding Keith’s braids, long, clever fingers making quick work of the thick locks. 

While Keith eats, Lance goes and ties down the entryway cloth, gazing out at the sky to see that the typically fluffy, white or gray clouds are thick and dark, blanketing the sky as far as he can see. 

He covers the windows, too. The air might get a little stale, but he’s been told it’s customary. Some guise of privacy, it keeps the den dark, makes bearers feel more secure during their seasons. It should keep the rain out, too. 

He throws more wood in the inside firepit, hoping to raise the temperature some more as he coaxes flames into a clump of leaves and twigs. The less effort Keith has to put into this, the better off he’ll be. He gets water, brings it to the bedroom. Keith’s staring, amethyst eyes luminous in the dark, large, anxious, pleading.

“I’m here, sweetheart, I’m here.” Lance settles in beside him. “Would you like some more blankets?”

Keith nods, snuggles up to him, rubbing his cheeks into Lance’s shirt, marking him with his scent as his fingers slip beneath the fabric.

“Okay, okay. Give me a tick.” Lance yanks his shirt over his head, lets a purring Keith burrow into his warmth. He lays on his back, pulling extra blankets with him, puts his arm around Keith's waist. He can feel every tremor racking his husband’s frame. “There we go, there we go. That’s it.”

They lie there together in silence, Keith’s purring, the wind whistling around their den the only noises. Another strong tremor wracks his husband’s frame, adding the chatter of teeth to the ambience.

A low, deep rumbling rattles the air around them, followed by a roars as the rain starts coming down in a torrent. Lance tenses. “What was that?”

“A thunderstorm.”

“Oh.  _ That’s _ what thunder sounds like?” Lance trails fingers through the mane of fur down Keith’s spine, feeling his body continue to heat up. “It’s louder than I imagined.”

“It’s louder when it’s close.” Another violent shiver has Keith curling closer to him. He feels like he’s on fire. “Lance…”

“I know… I know. You’ll be alright.”

As it turns out, Lance didn’t know _ at all. _

Contrary to his very immature expectations, seasons aren’t really fun or sexy. At least, not for him. 

Seasons are for reproduction, pure and simple. Which means Keith’s just… there, passively responding to his ministrations. And when he’s not, he’s asleep, or just uncomfortable and miserable. The fever makes him lethargic, sapping him of energy, but also of appetite. What little he can eat makes him nauseous, and he mumbles once that he wishes he’d just throw up. 

Lance does his best, even if his best doesn’t feel good enough. The truth is, he hates it, and he misses his husband the entire movement he’s in season, though he never leaves his side.

Keith doesn’t really enjoy himself either. He just feels ill, horny, and generally uncomfortable. The only thing that actually helps is Lance’s ‘presence’, and his quintessence, both of which the man gives him freely. It soothes some of his distress, makes him better able to eat and drink, helps him find the energy for his fever. He has Lance check his temperature more than once, just to make sure he’s holding steady. He is, mostly, within a margin of one or two degrees. He only dips low once, near the end, and he distinctly remembers Lance scooping him up and setting him in a piping hot bath.

He doesn’t really remember much else. It all kind of blended together in the end.

What he does remember is afterward, waking up with his head on Lance’s chest, a hand running up and down his back, curled fingers coursing through his thick mane.

“Hey, Beloved.” A tug on his braid. “Good morning.”

“Mmf.” Keith’s entire body aches. “Is it, though?”

“I’m here. You’re here. Seems a good morning to me.”

“Mnh. I suppose.” Keith gently runs a hand up and down Lance’s scales and skin. “You okay?”

“Am I okay? Are  _ you _ okay?”

Sore. Tired. Cranky.” Another deep sigh. “A little nauseous. How long has it been since I’ve eaten?”

“A while.” Lance rubs his back. His own voice sounds hoarse. He sleeps when Keith sleeps. “I was going to get you to eat something, but then your fever started to break.”

“Ugh... I don’t feel good.”

“I’m not surprised. You really put us through it, Beloved.” There’s a hum of warmth beneath Keith’s skin as Lance tries to soothe his aching muscles. “You wanna eat, or sleep some more?”

Too tired to say any more, Keith nods, nuzzling against Lance’s throat as a gentle purr thrums low in his throat. A little amused, Lance pulls him closer, rubs behind his ear. He’d sleep too -he’s quite tired himself- but he’s worried. He hadn’t expected this to be so taxing for Keith. 

He’d been told multiple times, but he still felt unprepared.

“Please be okay, beloved.”

“Hm… My good man. Nithi’i oma anithi’i.”

Lance smiles. “Se sart-he losi sart-ha.”

_ You are my person. _

**Author's Note:**

> Next time on Love After the Fact: Recovery from sex marathons include lots of cuddle, stress about possible pregnancies, catching up on neglected duties, etc. etc. etc. Yay, stress!


End file.
